


Pulse

by hermesthewayfinder



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Family, Clint is done, Confused Steve Rogers, Confused Tony, Domestic Avengers, Everyone is confused basically, M/M, Tony Being Tony, YOU KNOW IT, talk about pulse points
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermesthewayfinder/pseuds/hermesthewayfinder
Summary: Every time Tony looks at Steve his body gives a lurch and his pulse sky rockets...and he really doesn't understand why.It doesn't take a genius to find out (just Steve).And a really hungry Clint Barton.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, 
> 
> I don't usually write things like this (although this is technically only my second attempt at writing so that's probably not a valid statement), but I thought I would put it out there anyways because it is a little sort of life in itself and I think that's quite nice. 
> 
> Also, I don't know how I feel about Steve's character because I tend to think about him more in the 1940s context (so pre-serum) and therefore this was a little different as to how I would present him in normal circumstances (as in, for me Steve Rogers is a cheeky little fucker who's low key determined to start shit and that part of Steve doesn't really manifest itself in this, which is a pity).
> 
> (P.S. It isn't meant to be accurate/realistic)  
> I hope you enjoy.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen. An idea born from an alcohol induced brain, whereupon looking at Steve Rogers, Tony felt the pulse in his throat threaten to choke him, its erratic and random fluttering not entirely unfamiliar, yet something he would have never had associated with the Captain. 

He stays stock still for a moment, his hand flying to graze his ecstatic pulse in surprise. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve, who shoots him a puzzled look. “Tony, are you-“

“Drunk? Very” Tony cuts in, pushing his hand into his pocket, shooting Steve a grin before turning around to leave the room hastily. 

Just a tipsy Tony being Tony.

*

The next time he’s had a little bit too much to drink, they’re all sitting in the main living room of Stark tower: Bruce, Steve, Thor, Natasha, Clint and Tony. Clint’s pretty much out of his mind, as in, he’s perched on the head rest of the couch, a lock of blond hair belonging to Thor wrapped around his hand as he braids it. Thor looks euphoric to have somebody play with his hair, and Tony makes a quick mental note in case he ever needed to find out how to cheer the thunder god up (if Loki does anything again…). 

It helps that Thor had brought back some Asgardian liquor, which happened to be one hundred times stronger than anything on Earth. Even Steve had that half lidded eyes, lazy grin expression which gave away the likes of a drunkard. Tony looks at Steve, eyeing the hair tickling the skin of his forehead, the sweep of his eyelashes hanging over blue eyes like stalactites, lips jutting out slightly, like the edge of a flower petal-

“…right, Tony?” 

Tony jumped, turning to look at Bruce. 

“Yes! Yes, definitely, one hundred percent agree, couldn’t have said it better myself”. 

There was a beat of silence.

“Tony, did you hear what I just said” asked Bruce.

“Nope, no fucking idea”, and with that, a more than happy Thor throws his head back and bellows with laughter which has the building shaking from its foundation, shortly accompanied by the rest of the group who didn’t seem to find Tony as annoying when they were drunk.

Tony, however, had been caught staring back at Steve, who was looking at him with a soft smile curling at the edge of his lips. 

Tony’s hands went straight to his pulse in alarm as his body gave an unfamiliar lurch. Steve’s expression flickered uncertainly, and he was about to ask Tony about it when suddenly Clint let out an oddly high pitched sound.

“Guys, let’s watch the Hobbit!”

The groan was unanimous as everyone turned to look at a deeply offended Clint.

“Clint, we’ve literally watched all the movies five times”, Bruce says above the annoyed mutters from the rest of the group.

Clint sits up straighter, letting go of Thor’s hair.

“So? The movies are fucking awesome!”

Before a new wave of disapproval starts, Tony speaks up.

“JARVIS, can you line up all of the Hobbit movies?”

“Certainly sir”

“Thanks”

Clint is looking at him in absolute disbelief. Tony rolls his eyes.

“I’m not doing this for you, bird brain”, he says, “I just don’t want you to wake me up by climbing through the ventilators. I’m going to bed”.

The movie had already started, and before anyone could speak up, Tony had already stood up (albeit swaying a little bit once he was on his feet), and made his way across of the room and out the door. 

No one but Natasha had noticed the way Steve had stared after him with a barely concealed concerned glance.

*

Until it happens when he’s sober.

*

 

Tony wouldn’t say he had been avoiding Steve. He had just needed a moment to clear his head, so that whenever Steve would enter a room, he’d leave, or whenever he’d ask him something, Tony would just turn away slightly whilst muttering something incomprehensible. He’d never have a chance to notice Steve’s hurt expression, and the puzzled looks Bruce and Natasha shared. No one said anything though, choosing to leave Tony to his self. Except it didn’t stop. Steve would go directly to Tony with a question on the tip of his tongue, and Tony would completely dismiss him, making a very unsubtle escape from the situation.

So when one afternoon he was in the kitchen preparing himself a cup of coffee, and he heard the door close behind him as someone walked in, well, it wasn’t exactly unexpected.

He stayed with his back towards the intruder, humming lowly under his breath as he fiddled around his coffee cup. 

“Tony?”and _shit_ , that was Steve.

Tony pretended not to have heard, opting instead to dig around to look for…napkins? Napkins. 

“ _Tony_ ” 

And yeah, that was Steve right behind him.

Tony starts, swirling round to look everywhere but at Steve. 

“Cap! You scared the hell out of me” he says, clutching at the counter behind him. He breathes deeply, keeping his gaze flickering from one place to another. 

When Steve doesn't say anything, and Tony doesn’t dare look at him, he starts talking, reaching towards his chest.

“Man, I think you may have damaged my arc reactor. It’s fragile, you know? But shit, no one cares about that, do they. I better go check to see if everything is all right with it—“

“Tony, what’s going on?” and that had Tony looking, because he had never heard Steve sound like that, like he was worried and stressed and anxious all at once all due to the way Tony was acting—

But this time his whole fucking body seems to lurch the moment he looks Steve in the eyes, because Steve is looking down at him like he himself was the one who had done something wrong and _damn_. 

Tony reaches to feel his pulse thundering in his throat, except this time Steve traces his movement, stepping forward as he sees what Tony is doing. “Why do you keep doing that? Tony what happened?” and this can’t be fucking happening because it’s goddamn _Captain America for the love of everything that’s pure and good in this world_.

Tony’s hand has turned white, the bones under the skin protruding at the surface at the way he’s clutching at the counter, his other hand still pressed forcefully to his throat as if he were trying to get in and rip his pulse out. 

Steve notices and goes to move in just that little bit closer, and that’s when Tony is spurred into action. 

“Oh god” he says, ducking under Steve’s arm and making a cowardly dash towards the door (and Tony Stark does not run away but something about this whole thing is just too much, and he’s just got to get the hell away) and he’s pulling at it, opening it until it isn’t open anymore because there’s an arm holding it shut and the arm happens to be muscly and milky white (Tony entertains the thought of it being his but even he isn’t that far up his own ass). He turns around to face the other side of the room only to come face to face with Steve Rogers. 

“Shit Steve, stop scaring me for the love of my fucking sanity. I need to get down to my lab so that I can work on my project so I’d really appreciate it if you opened the —“

“Stark, what the hell?” Steve snaps, keeping the door shut with his arm. 

Tony stares up at him, an affronted look on his face. 

“What do you mean ‘what the hell’? You’re the one keeping me in here, Cap. What do you want?” Tony says, an edge to his voice (all whilst the pulse in his neck is still threatening to leap out of his neck and onto the floor, to make a mess and expose the problem in the first place).

Steve almost looks startled, never having seen Tony act so sporadically towards him.

Tony goes to move again, but Steve decides to put his other arm down near Tony’s head so that he wouldn’t be able to slide away and that really fucks it up. 

Tony has never felt so unlike himself as he watches it unfold almost in slow motion, the feeling of prickling heat slithering its way up his neck and into his cheeks, Steve’s eyes following the slow movement of the blush, eyes widening as he realises…

That has Tony pushing at Steve’s chest with an air of slight despair, hating the way he didn’t seem in control of anything (Steve wasn’t making it any better, looming over him like a fucking giant). 

“Rogers! Fuck off, will you? I’m a busy man and you’re way too close to me”, and that has Steve bending his arms so as to suddenly be much closer to Tony, his nose only a few inches away, 

Tony scrunches his eyes shut, his hands curling into Steve’s t-shirt as he tries to ground himself, his breath seeming to get stuck in his throat as he chases one after the other, all whilst avidly trying to forget that he could feel Steve’s breath on his face. 

Nothing happens for a moment, the air seemingly too charged with particles for anything to unfold. It’s not until Steve speaks that Tony is (unfortunately) brought back to the reality of the situation.

“Are you going to—“ and you see, this is why Tony fucking hates every little thing in this world sometimes, regardless of what it is, regardless of what it means, or what its purpose is. Maybe it seems like a ludicrous thing to say, but he means it one hundred percent. Because at that specific second in time, Clint fucking Barton decides that he’s just so goddamned hungry, he needs to bang into the door. And maybe Tony would have gotten away from the situation with trying to play it cool to save his own ass. But the moment Barton decides to smash into the door, Tony (because of _physics_ for fuck’s sakes) rocks forward, right into Steve, face first, lips pursed in surprise, and Steve goes to grab Tony to keep him steady, forgetting in the meantime about the momentum, and then Tony’s falling with Steve, holding on to him for dear life as their faces smash together none too pretty, lips locked on lips and limbs tangled like a knot once they crash onto the floor. 

Tony goes to let out a groan, but then he’s too busy nipping in frustration at Steve’s lips without noticing what exactly he’s doing, and that’s the moment where it all really just goes haywire. Because at that, Steve’s hands snake up to cup at Tony’s cheeks, keeping him in place, waiting a beat before delicately choosing to move his lips against Tony’s lightly, gauging his reaction incase he needs to pull away immediately. 

Tony breathes in sharply, and he’s fucking gone at this point, forgetting about everything as he places his hands on either side of Steve’s head, pressing in to deepen the kiss with a slight lick into Steve’s mouth (as if he were saying ‘I’m not fragile, I can handle myself’). Steve lets out an almost inaudible groan, tightening his grip on Tony’s face, letting him explore the seams of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. And then that’s all it is, hot and messy and wet, licking and biting and teeth flashing in between swollen pink lips and there’s nothing delicate about this now. Tony can hear himself mutter a small “Oh God” as Steve pulls him infinitely closer, hands holding on as if he were afraid Tony might slip away but how could Tony even think of slipping away from something so beautiful? Regardless of the confusion of his feelings, the slight uncertainty of discovering something about yourself that you never knew. How could he dare move away from this? 

In the meantime, Clint is looking at the door with burrowed brows, wondering why exactly it didn’t open. He tries again, twisting the handle and pushing it, smiling with satisfaction as the door reveals a glistening kitchen…and a pile of humans intertwined on the floor. Clint lets out a terrific yelp of “Holy fucking _shit_ ” when he realises who exactly makes up the pile of human, and what exactly they’re doing, and Steve’s a damn good kisser (which he doesn’t even understand is possible because he was frozen in ice for, you know, _seventy years_ ) but Tony still manages to hear Clint hyperventilating somewhere above him, and he’s suddenly reminded as to why exactly he’s on the floor to begin with.

He pulls away, planting one last kiss onto Steve’s swollen lips before he’s standing up, turning to face a spluttering Clint. 

“Barton, I’m going to fucking kill you” 

Steve’s up in a second, taking hold of Tony as Natasha and Bruce peer in through the doorway, wondering what exactly is going on. 

“You guys were kissing! You and Steve were making out on the kitchen floor! You and _Captain fucking America_ —” and now Bruce’s turning to look at Tony as said man glares at Clint. 

“Tony—“ Bruce begins, turning to look at Tony with wide eyes.

“You rammed into the fucking door you moron! What were you trying to do, break it down?” Tony shouts, completely ignoring Bruce’s attempt to call his attention.

“Tony—” that’s Steve now, giving Tony’s arm a little tug.

“How the hell is this my fault? You were blocking the door because you were _making out_ —“

“ _We weren’t making out on the door_ , bird brain! As you felt the need to literally throw yourself into the door, you pushed me on to Steve and—“

“I didn’t make you kiss!”

“That’s not the _point_ —“

“ _Tony_ —“

“Stop saying my name! I don’t hear you repeating Clint’s name!”

“That’s because I’m not the one who had been ignoring Steve for two weeks, only to find myself making out with him the next second!” 

Silence ensues after that, loud breaths echoing around the room as Tony and Clint glare at one another. Steve has purposefully avoided Natasha’s and Bruce’s questioning glances, keeping his eyes trained on Tony instead with an air of frustration. Tony speaks up. 

“That’s none of you business, Barton” 

“Now that you two have stopped fighting like children, can someone please explain what happened?” Natasha says in a levelled tone before Clint can retaliate. 

Tony turns to look at her, expression hard and unreadable.

“Listen, this isn't anyones business but Steve’s and my own. Stop involving yourselves” 

“Tony—“

And that’s Steve talking purposefully for the first time, letting out a small sigh as he looks at the ground. 

“What is it?” 

Steve gives Tony a fleeting glance, turning to address the whole room. 

“I just think we need to work some things out before we say anything, that’s all. Clint, sorry you were caught up in all that, it wasn’t really fair. We need some time” 

Tony scoffs. 

“Steve, he literally banged into the fucking door—“

“I didn’t know you were on it, did I?“

“Shut up—“

“Tony. Hush”

Tony turns to look at Steve as if he were personally offended that Steve wasn’t defending him. Steve gives him a hard look, all furrowed eyes and set jaw, which would have been very effective if it weren’t for the bruised lips and the flushed cheeks. 

“They aren’t involved in this”

At that Steve steps closer, taking a hold of Tony’s arm. 

“Yes, they are. They deserve to understand, not only as our team mates, but also as our friends. Now stop arguing. You too, Clint. Just give us time” he says, looking at the other avengers. Natasha looks back, eyes slightly narrowed as she looks between the two of them, but giving a small nod of consent at Steve’s last statement. Bruce is looking at them with a tired expression, also nodding with a small sigh. Clint shrugs, still keeping a steady gaze on Tony. It’s Tony who refuses to meet anyones eyes, simply stating “Okay, I’ll be down in my workshop, just letting you know because none of you will be welcome. Hasta la vista”, and just like that, he’s out the door before anyone can get another word in. 

Steve looks at the door Tony just left through, moving as if to follow, but then halting his steps. He sighs quietly, running his hand through his hair. No one says a word, simply gazing at the soldier with slight concern. It’s Natasha who breaks the silence first. “Okay, let’s go”. 

Clint is the first out the door, never having been capable of handling an awkward situation. As the rest of the unnecessary spectators flock out of the room, Steve takes a seat, resting a weary head on a limp hand and looking thoughtfully, albeit wearily, at the table top. 

Here he was, in contact with something extraordinary, and yet he could not suppress the feeling of uneasiness he felt. Maybe it was because he knew that this shouldn’t be happening to him, that he should be dead, or maybe it’s because he had never pictured a world where a man could kiss a man and not be beaten to death. But for whatever reason, the feeling lay there, thin and sticky at the pit of his stomach. 

He thought of Tony. He thought of kissing Tony.

The uneasiness flattened out, lessening the slightest of bits. 

Yes, it was all still quite extraordinary.

*

Steve creeps into Tony’s room that night, not exactly expecting to see Tony in his bedroom (as he tended to live in his workshop), but choosing to give it a go anyways in case he was lucky. And he was.

The moment the door had cracked open, Tony was there, ready to kick out any unwanted individual without a moment’s hesitation. When he realised it was Steve instead, he let out a little breath, pulling him and shut the door behind him with a velocity that Steve had never thought Tony possible of.

Before the soldier could get a words worth in, Tony’s pushing him against the door, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to meet already waiting lips, an unspoken conversation that makes Steve’s insides burn. 

It’s as if now that Tony has finally discovered the wonders of kissing Steve, the fact that he can actually kiss Steve in the first place, he’s really not willing to waste any time doing anything else. 

And although this was incredible, although Tony was doing wonders with his tongue that made Steve’s head spin, Steve hadn’t come in for only this. 

He goes to pull away, sighing a little as Tony follows, unwilling to part just yet (or ever, for that matter). 

“Tony”, the name comes out muffled as said man continues his on going trajectory of stealing every breath Steve takes, nipping in annoyance at a plush bottom lip as Steve’s about to pull back again, this time succeeding. 

Tony looks so comically grumpy to have his make out session disrupted again (and not even by an idiotic wondering superhero this time!), that Steve can’t help but smile. He leans in to press one last kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth.

“Okay, can we talk now?” Steve mutters, watching the way Tony’s eyes open slowly to look back at him with a dazed expression.

“Rogers, we’ve spent the whole time we’ve known each other talking. Can’t we just do something else this time?”

“Something else being…?”

Tony looks up at him, pursing his lips slightly. Steve rolls his eyes.

“I think I deserve an explanation” is Steve’s answer. 

Tony stops all pretence of humour, sighing instead and moving away from Steve to sit at the edge of his bed. Steve follows. 

“What’s there to explain?”

Steve looks at him uncertainly. 

“Look, you won’t like to hear this, but Clint was right—“

“ _Steve_ ”

“—when he said that you had been ignoring me prior to this little change of mind. What happened?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“I can’t believe you just said Barton was right—” Tony says, sticking his nose up in the air and sniffing haughtily. 

“Okay, fine, I won’t take Clint’s words, I’ll use my own. Why were you ignoring me?” 

Tony keeps his gaze steady on Steve’s, before sighing and turning away to look at the wall. 

“It was… unexpected” Tony says, and stops without offering any other clarification.

Steve inclines his head, waiting for him to continue and expand, but Tony seemed to have lost track as he stares without registering at the wall. Before Steve could say anything, he notices Tony’s left hand gently reaching to brush over his wrist. He walks to where Tony is sitting on the bed, kneeling on the floor to look Tony directly in the eyes. 

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Tony’s now perplexed gaze drifts back to him. 

“Do what?” 

Steve reaches up to take a hold of Tony’s hand, ignoring the way Tony tries in vain to pull away. 

“When you were ignoring me these past few weeks, you would look at me sometimes and then pass your hand over your neck or wrist” Steve mimics the actions as he speaks, brushing his hand lightly over Tony’s wrist. Before Tony can even react, Steve halts his ministrations, stopping at the point where he feels a slight movement under the pads of his fingers. The slight thrum of blood moving which meant a person was alive, usually amounting between 60 to 80 beats per minute, although Tony’s was probably normally at a higher speed because he had decided to casually replace water consumption with coffee instead, his pulse rate was undeniably beating much faster than normal (regardless of caffeine intake). It seemed to sky rocket under his very fingertips as Steve looked up in surprise at Tony, who at this point had cheeks dusted with the lightest pink and who was adamantly trying not to meet Steve’s gaze. 

“Oh” it’s small and not meant to slip out between Steve’s lips, but it’s enough to have Tony clearing his throat and pulling his hand away roughly.

“It’s nothing, Rogers. Don’t flatter yourself, there’s been a lot of excitement these past few days and I’m not as young as I once was, although I still look as good as ever” Tony says, standing up (still avoiding Steve’s look) and turning and stepping around Steve to walk out the door. 

Steve’s up and taking a hold of his hand before he can even get two steps closer to the exit, and Tony lets out a muffled grumble as he’s pulled in front of the soldier, who’s gaze (which Tony still refuses to meet) has softened into something gentle. 

“So you like keeping people hostages in rooms. Good to know” Tony mumbles as he shifts his feet slightly, looking right over Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve steps a little closer.

“Tony” he says softly, brushing his arm down said person’s arm to take a hold of his hand. Tony clears his throat. 

“Look at me” 

Brown eyes flicker from one place to another. 

“ _Tony_ ”

Still nothing. Steve takes Tony’s hand and lifts it slowly up to the side of his own neck, to press down on the spot he knew he’d find an increased passing of blood as his body pumped more oxygen rapidly around his huge body. Tony stills at that, eyes widening and shooting up to meet Steve’s, who has also seemed to attain a pink hue to each cheek. 

“Oh” Tony mumbles, feeling each elevated heart beat via Steve’s pulse. 

“Yeah” Steve whispers, leaning to rest his forehead against Tony’s. 

Silence ensues as they stay leaning on one another, holding each other’s pulse rates, breathing in each others air and revelling in the mutual declaration. It’s Tony who speaks up first, his hand still pressed to Steve’s pulse.

“You know, that’s pretty hot” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but leans down to nip at Tony’s lips, catching Tony completely off guard (if the hitched breath is anything to go by).

“Yeah” says Tony moving to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck to pull him in closer, lips ghosting over lips as Steve looks down at him with barely concealed endearment.

“ _Definitely_ hot” 

*

It was all quite extraordinary.

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite sure what this was but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! 
> 
> (If any parts alluding to biological explanations are inaccurate then I do apologies, and let me know)


End file.
